Warning: There is bullying and a bit of violence in this chapter.

Thanks for all the wonderful reviews, they definitely help while I try to outline this story! I still don't really know exactly where I am going with it, but hopefully you guys like it. Let me know what you think!

It becomes apparent that Kili has no intention of leaving archery behind. It is a skill that he insists on seeing to before that of his skills with a sword. Thorin finds that his nephew excels at both, but the feel of a sword has yet to replace Kili's love of a bow. Where Fili places his twin swords out by his side at the table as they eat, Kili places his practice bow by his. His youngest nephew is still not big enough to shoot with the elvish bow the ranger had given him near a fifteen years ago, thank Aule. But Thorin, on occasion, silently curses the stranger for having gifted Kili with the thing.

The chance encounter with the Dunedein had sparked a keen interest in the young dwarfling, who spent his spare time reading about the men of the North. Inquiring to all men who passed through Thorin's forge of the rumors of the darkly clad men who roamed the woods to the East near Imladris. When Kili decided to forgo is usual royal blue cloak for that of plain black one, Thorin had felt a pang of jealousy in his heart.

This behavior had not gone unnoticed by the other dwarves of Ered Luin, who took it upon themselves to let Thorin know of their disapproval.

'It's not natural Thorin for a dwarf to be flouncing around like some longshank from the north.' Says Dwalin gravely, late one night while sharing an ale with the Heir of Durin.

'What my brother means to say', speaks Balin, ever the diplomat. ' is that we have heard talk among the people in the city Thorin, about Kili, and it's not entirely favorable.'

Thorin lifts an eyebrow feigning ignorance and Balin continues. 'Now you know that I love your nephews as they were my own grandsons, I was there to pull them both from your sisters womb. But I will not stay silent while some of your people speak ill of your family, though I can't exactly disagree that some of their remarks are unwarranted no-'

'The boy already gets jeered at by the others for his slight frame, his hairless chin and his fair features, but it's the bow and arrow, and his interests in the race of men and elves that offend people Thorin.' Dwalin interrupts. 'They feel as if your heir has no interest in the history or the plight of our people.'

'Which of course is unfair.' Balin concludes, eyeing his brother indignantly. 'The boy is young and curious, there is nothing wrong with that.'

'He should be standing by his uncle with a sword or an axe in his hands,' bites back Dwalin. 'not a weapon that is seen as cowardly, something so-'

'Elvish.' Finishes Thorin fixing his companions with a stare.

Both brothers stare down at their pints, 'We do not concern ourselves with the whispers and gossip, Thorin. We are more concerned for what it may do for the lad.' Dwalin says softly.

Thorin sighs, 'I understand my friend, but Balin is right, Kili is young and curious I do not doubt the boy will grow out of it. Do not concern yourself with the gossip and blabbering's of the town; such things come with the burden of any royal family. It is not something I am unaccustomed to.'

Both brothers seem to accept their King's answer.

It is hard to think that such concern would truly be needed over such a thing as Kili's weapon of choice, but one can nearly forget the cruelty of children.

'Look! It's the Durin bastard. Going off to practice archery little elf imp?'

Kili stops in his tracks turning to look at the young dwarves who are standing at an entrance of an abandoned mine. Fili had left earlier in the morning to have sword lessons with their uncle and Kili was eager to meet the pair at the practice fields to hone his archery on his own. While it had been his uncle who had given him he basic premise of firing a bow and arrow, the young dwarf had taken it upon himself to learn the secrets of the skill, often befriending men who were hunters or fighters to learn their techniques.

He fixes a stern frown at the three dwarves hoping to emulate the intimidating stare of his uncle.

'I am not an elf, nor am I a bastard.' He seethes gripping tightly at his bow.

'What did you say bastard?' says another as they circle the younger dwarf. 'I do not understand the blubbering's of tree loving cowards and filthy traitors.'

'Look at his face,' laughs the other as Kili attempts to track their movements, not letting the three out of his sight. 'Not a hair on that fair face of his, like a girl a pretty, pretty girl…'

A shadow passes over Kili and it only then that he realizes that the three dwarves have herded him into the inside of the mine. When one of them grabs for him, Kili's training kicks in. The crunch of the older dwarf's nose breaking echoes through the cave and soon a howl of pain follows. Kili is suddenly struck down by a swift punch to his temple, his bow falling from his hands as his back hits the dirt ground.

'The imp broke my bloody nose!' the dwarf shrieks, all the while moaning and clutching at his bloodied nose. He delivers a kick to Kili's side.

'Hold his feet down!'

Kili feels his feet being anchored down by two sets of hands and then the air is being knocked out of him when the dwarf sits on his chest. The dwarf's blood is dripping down onto Kili's tunic and face before he is being pummeled with punches. It felt inevitable for the young dwarf to stay down and take the beating. However fortune seemed to smile on Kili for the punches were clumsily aimed- most likely from impaired vision due to the blood from the broken nose- which gave the boy the opportunity to reach for his bow. Holding his practice bow like a club Kili brought it down with a resounding whack onto the offending dwarf's head. The dwarf howled again and Kili used the distraction to push the bully off his chest to careen into the other two.

'I am not a imp!' Kili firmly spoke landing a blow to one the dwarf's stomach with the tip of his bow. 'I am not a maiden nor an elf!' he seethes, hitting each one in the face with his weapon causing them to stumble back towards the caves exit.

'And I am certainly not a Durin bastard!' he cries, charging the trio with all his strength, using his bow to careen them out of the cave and onto the mudded ground.

Kili does not spare the dwarves a second glance, striding calmly towards the practice fields.

Both his uncle and brother double take when they see the state of him.

'Kili!' says Fili concerned, dropping his sword to run to his younger brother. 'Is- is that blood? Is that your blood?'

Thorin comes up behind Fili scowling, 'What happened!?'

Kili pulls nonchalantly at his blue tunic that is splattered in blood. 'Oh this,' he notes lightly. 'Nothing to worry over uncle the blood is not mine. There was just uh disagreement between three dwarves and myself.'

'Three dwarves?!'

'Who are these cowards brother? I will see to it that they get a thorough beating!'

'Fili!' reprimands their uncle, though the dwarven king has half a mind to track the three perpetrators down on his own.

'There is no need Fili.' Kili says gently, fondly taking up his bow and pulling out a quiver of practice arrows. 'They are taken care of I promise you.'

Kili remains calmly quite throughout the day, unwilling to tell the details to his uncle. Thorin will no doubt have to pull it out from his eldest nephew when he gets the chance, but he suspects that the offending weapon that sits by his nephew's side as he eats his supper has all to do with Kili's bruised state. Although he is proud that Kili had been able to hold his own against three older dwarves, he prays to Aule that some sense will come to his nephew, to put away the foreign weapon and take up the arms of his ancestors, like an Heir of Durin should.